


Frycook in Hell

by julysunicorn



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is obsessed with jambalaya, Charlie is sweet and innocent, but they make good food tho, roaches gonna be roaches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:41:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28164915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julysunicorn/pseuds/julysunicorn
Summary: Angel Dust is sick of only having jambalaya to eat, so he asks his friend Crocker Roach to be the hotel's official cook - greatly upsetting Alastor. When things start to get hinky around the hotel and the blame is placed on Crocker, how will he and Angel convince Charlie that the Radio Demon is behind it all? Rated M, this is Hazbin Hotel, sick twisted dookie is going down here yo!
Kudos: 2





	1. The Offer

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello! So recently my friend who wrote When My Magic Meets Your Sceience with me got me into Hazbin Hotel. at fisrt I'm like whoa holy cow this show is messed up?! but I laughed and oh my gosh the designs of the characters were so pretty I loved them! especially Angel Dust he's just so pretty. personally my favorite character is Vaggie, a lot of people were offended by her I heard? something about her being a bad reprisentation of lesbians or latinas or both? i think i heard people were upset because she was angry all the time, even though she wasn't and even if she was everyone gets mad... personally she reminded me a lot of my boyfirned's mom (who's also Latina) who's a wonderful strong woman who's threatened to whoop my ass before if I ever made her boy cry (which I haven't lol!) but she's just the nicest person I know besides my older brother so i really don't get it. it just seems people complain about everything these days smh. well anyway I was inspired by what i saw and wrote up two chapters of this, I honestly don't know if I'll continue it, most likely only when the inspiration strikes, but i hope you enjoy it! have a wonderful day and stay safe!

Frycook in Hell

Chapter One: The Offer

It was just another day for Crocker at his workplace of McDiablo's, the shittiest restaurant in all of hell: scare the demon rats out of the dining room and into the kitchen where they would help him cook and not scare the clientele (though he doubted they would care anyway), start up the fryers and throw on his apron for another grease-filled haze until he went back to his shitty apartment and his shitty bed with a mattress that was shitty for other reasons.

Crocker stood at the stove flipping burgers and sighing, thinking about just how he got here in the first place. He was a good guy, honest! But there was that one incident that one day... that one day so long ago...

* * *

"order up, Dave," said the waitress girl who he'd always thought was cute, but was always too shy to speak with her and now he couldn't even remember her name.

"Thanks," Crocker (then Dave before he died) said and he looked at the order, it was for a double cheeseburger and a triple order of fries. Bloke must've been hungry.

"DAVE!" shouted his boss storming into the kitchen, "IN MY OFFICE!"

"Uh oh, he sounds mad," Crocker mused to himself and turned the stove down to simmer them patties as he went to go see just what the fock his boss wanted sheesh he was always doing this...

"What is it sir"

As his boss ranted and raved at him and cranked his boombox up all the way so no one outside could hear him verbally abuse his employee, Crocker's rival in the frycook business, Luther, his vastly inferior co-cook, crept up to the stove and laid a dead rat down on top of the burger meant for table 3. Then he put the top bun back on just as Crocker came back in.

"Sheesh he's such a bitch, he got all upset about lipstick prints on the stall doors again," he vented to Luther, who he didn't know hated him!

"Sorry about that, pal," Luther said faking pity and handing the newly-sculpted burger to his "friend." "Here, I got table 3's order done up for you so you didn't have to. Since you've had enough to deal with."  
"Gee, thanks, man!" Crocker said taking the burgar and smiling at him. "You sure are a bro, you hear me?"

"Oh, yes," Luther said, giggling deeply... too deep to be innocent. "Yes, I hear you."

Crocker served that hell patty up to the customer, who literally took one bite, _one bite,_ see, look at her, she's biting into it, one bite, then promptly died over the table. Ridiculous. It's as if she _wanted_ to die and ruin his life. Crocker had no idea what happened and tried to tell the cops when they came but they didn't listen. Luther snuck out the back door and since no one had seen him at the restaurant the entire day he was able to lie that he'd been home sick so he got off scott-free. Crocker was sentenced to death by rats which is a lot more disturbing than it sounds so you're just going to have to trust me that it wasn't pretty, I'm going to spare you from the actual description. When he woke up after dying he was in Hell and Charlie, Hell's very own princess, was handing him a chocolate-ship cookie as a consolation for dying. It didn't help but it tasted good, mmm.

* * *

So now he was here. But since everyone who turns into a demon undergoes _some_ sort of cosmetic change, he was now a cockroach demon to reflect his subpar kitchen cleanliness in life (which wasn't even true he was very clean in his kitchen but no one down here believed him), but honestly he looked more like a giant isopod than a cockroach so he was even _more_ disgusting than he would normally be. Everyone puked upon seeing him, for example, whereas most people just scream after seeing a roach. But he dealt with it.

At least he wasn't the only bug demon down here. He had a friend, Angel Dust, who was a spider demon, and the two of them had become drinking buddies - eventually, after Angel forgave him for hitting him with his car while rushing to work... but he hadn't really seen much of Angel lately? He'd heard he was hanging out at this hip new hotel in town, and that was all Crocker needed to hear to know it was a brothel.

For, you see, Angel Dust was a sex worker.

Crocker was taking inventory in the greasy spoon's kitchen, or as he liked to call it, Hell's Kitchen. At least he hadn't lost his sense of humor when he died but he did lose his flesh and he felt it wasn't a worthy trade off. And he was also quite handsome before and now... well anyway he was taking inventory when the bell at the counter was dinged.

"Be right there," he rasped, he was the only one here today because his boss was sick with measles _and_ gonorrhea, so he was working double-duty. When he was done he went out to the register, only to see Angel Dust laying provocatively across the counter.

"Angel, get your bodily-fluid-soaked boots off of that counter," Crocker warned, "I just cleaned it."

"Pff. Not like anyone in this place'd care," the spider demon scoffed, slowly rolling off and back onto his feet.

"What are you doing here, anyway? You know my shift doesn't end until 6."

"I've got a little proposal for ya, my good man- uh... roach!"

"Thank you," Crocker said, rolling his eyes at his friend's stammering. "What do you mean by proposal?"

"You hate working here, right?" Angel began, gesturing around the decrepit dining room. "Every time I get ya liquored up, you're always complainin', "nobody tips, your coworkers mysteriously go missing, sludge comes up through the floor," et cetera et cetera. Well, I gotta real good job offer for you, my friend, right at the hotel-"

Crocker immediately cut him off and said, "I'm not interested in cooking for your brothel."

Angel imediately gave him a look of confusion. "Huh? I don't work in a brothel! At least, not anymore..."

"Angel. I'mma be straight with you. You're a spider-hooker, and have always been one or its equivalent for as long as I've known you." said Crocker, his brow was really low as he studied his friend. "How can I possibly believe you work for anything other than the sex industry?"

"Oh, babe, you're breakin' my heart!" Angel cried, gripping his ample chest as he feigned hurt. "And all along I thought... you weren't stupid. I'm a _guest_ at the hotel, ya dimwit."

" _Oh,_ " Crocker said, embarrassed. "Sorry, man."

"Heh heh, it's all good. No one else has really taken the place seriously, either."

"Why's that?"

Angel cocked his brow. "Ya didn't see the news broadcast a week ago?"

"I hate the news network here that Killjoy bitch gets on my nerves. Plus Tom is kind of my ex..."

"Oh, right. Well, let's just say the boss is kinda, er, _animated._ The place has been a laughing stock since."

"Who's the boss?" Crocker asked

Angel winked at him. "Princess Charlotte Magne herself."

" _The Princess of Hell owns a brothel?!_ " Crocker asked, surprised. She seemed too sweet and innocent!

"DARN IT, CROCKER!" Angel snapped, slamming his fists into the counter. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU, IT'S NOT A BROTHEL!" He took a moment to breathe, then continued when he'd calmed down. "Anyway, yeah, Charlie kinda screwed up our image last week, but she's a doll and has been real good to me. On the other hand..." Angel leaned in, eyes darting around the room to make sure no one was listening before continuing (the only guy there had passed out over his burger). "The guy you're replacin'... he's a real freakshow."

"What's wrong with him?" Crocker asked.

"He's a real creep, and an uptight jackass," Angel said, careful not to give the demon's real name, otherwise Crocker would surely turn him down. "He's kind of helping Charlie out with this whole thing, and has been cookin' for us until we find a full-time employee... but I need him out. _Now._ " He clutched his gut, face twisting in discomfort. "After a week of having nothing but jambalaya for every meal, everyone's really paying the price."

"Ew..." Crocker said, backing up. He brought his hand to his chin, thinking it all over. "What's in it for me?"

"Other than getting to see my smiling, handsome face each day?" Angel asked, offended. "Well, all the staff lives at the hotel, so you'll have a nice, clean room, sturdy roof over your head, and three hot bowls of jambalaya- I mean three square meals a day. And we got a security system."

As Crocker contemplated this, one of the demon rats came out of the kitchen with a dirty toilet plunger. " _Crapper soiled,_ " it squorted. " _Time to plunge._ "

The color drained from Crocker's face, but Angel added, "And we got a maid to clean the crappers for us."

" **I'm sold,** " Crocker hissed through his mandibles.


	2. Horrors Behind Closed Doors

Chapter Two: Horrors Behind Closed Doors

Crocker threw his filth and rat-piss-soaked apron at the offending rodent and walked with Angel Dust up the street to Charlie's kickin' hotel. The marquee was garish and bright tomato red like what the fock... but he was being given freaken' free board and meals if he just shut up and cooked for her so he could live with the awful decor.

They traversed the walkway up to the building, passing by several fragrant flower bushes they were so pretty. Crocker was delighted and would've stopped to smell them (he loved flowers, his momma was a gardener), but Angel was overexcited and reached the front door in a matter of seconds, so he hurried past the flowers to not keep him waiting. He got scary when he was kept waiting.

The (ex?)spider-hooker threw open the front doors to the hotel and called out, "Guess who said yes to being our cook!"

Charlie and her girlfriend Vaggie was there in the hallway, Charlie was flipping through the guestbook while Vaggie was checking something on her phone and their tiny cyclops maid Niffty was at first dusting away cobwebs but was now beating the giant spider creating the cobwebs into a hairy, mushy pulp because it wouldn't stop extruding silk all over everything. (and no it wasn't Angel Dust, it was just a giant recluse or something.)

"Angel you little shit, I already told you you're gonna hafta-" when Vaggie's eyes fell on Crocker, though, she exclaimed, "GOOD GRIEVOUS!" Immediately sick, she turned to a nearby potted plant to throw up.

"Sigh, yes, I have that effect on people," Crocker said. Charlie blushed at her girlfriend's reaction, hoping Crocker wouldn't be too offended, and got up and skipped over to greet them.

"Hi there! I'm Charlie, I own this hotel with my girlfriend, and that's Vaggie, the co-owner and my girlfriend," Charlie explained.

"Crocker Roach," Crocker introduced himself, even though they'd already met, but he figured she was busy, being a princess and all, so she probably met lots of her subjects and couldn't remember them all.

"And that girl fluttering about everywhere is Niffty, our housekeeper, she keeps our toilets clean and shiny," Charlie said as she pointed to the tiny maid skittering about at the speed of light.

"I appreciate that very much."

"Don't we all?" joked Charlie before Caggie got back in on the conversation.

" _Like I was saying,_ " she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm, "Angel, I don't like _him_ cooking for us either, but he insisted and his help makes Charlie happy."

"Aw, you are so sweet!" said Charlie clasping her hands together at her grilfriend's sentiment.

"Yeah well, I'm sure Niffty wouldn't mind us all eating something other than jambalaya, _would you Niffty?!_ " Angel shouted at the maid.

"Hell no it's been horrible utter chaos I say my good sir Crocker you said your name was mighty fine to meet you please spare my soul er wait well you get the point please save me from having to clean a jambalaya bathroom again it is most dreadful to the senses Squire" she said at a mile a minute.

"... say again?" asked Crocker, he'd hardly been able to catch a word of that.

Angel took over the floor again and said, "And with the hotel officially opening up tomorrow, and the sea of new guests floodin' in, you'll need a good cook to help ya out. Plus, he's an ex-fast food frycook, so he can keep up with the rush."

"Well, uh, if I get the job, I'd be happy to," Crocker said before Angel glomped him.

"See? He's such a selfless lost soul!" he said, squishing Crocker's beef-jerky-textured face despite his annoyed demands for his friend to let him go. Angel turned to Charlie, knowing he could tug on her heartstrings. "All he wants is to make others happy, Charlie. And he lives in deplorable conditions - sleeps on a bed of pure fecal matter!"

Charlie gasped, tears springing to her eyes. "That's terrible!" Vaggie rolled her eyes beside her.

"No I don't!" Crocker snapped.

Angel contunued, "And he was just fired from his last place of work for warning the customers of the dreadful demon rat infestation, when all he wanted was to keep them healthy!"

"That's... that's so mean of them!" Charlie sobbed before blowing into a red handkerchief with black loopy-doily designs sewn into it along the border, and her name "Charlotte" sewn in black cursive in the middle (it was a gift to her when she was born).

Angel let Crocker go as he fell to one knee, closing eyes eyes sadly for the icing on the cake. Mmm. "And so he's humbly come here, to our establishment, asking if we could give him the chance to do his best and deliver us the best cooking experience possible, in exchange only for a room and hot meals?"

" _YES!_ " Charlie practically screamed, throwing her arms around Crocker despite how hideous he was, and she didn't even throw up over his shoulder. Good gravy how can the literal Princess of Hell be so nice this is giving me mixed emotions. " _OF COURSE WE WILL TAKE YOU IN! YOU'RE SUCH A WONDERFUL DEMON!_ "

" _Checkmate, baby,_ " Angel whispered to Crocker, winking at his friend.

"Hold up here a sec," Vaggie interrupted, prying her girlfriend off the enormous roach and dragging her aside. "Charlie, I know you feel bad for this guy, but 1. Angel Dust is a pathogogical liar and 2. you know _he's_ not going to take this well."

"Oh, Vaggie, it'll be alright!" Charlie insisted, smiling as she caressed her concerned girlfriend's cheek. "Besides, Alastor said he'd only cook for us as long as we didn't have one full-time, and I'm sure he'll be happy for the break."

"I know, I'm just... I'm worried about you, working closely with him."

"I promise, Vaggie," Charlie said, "I will be careful, and if he gets out of hand, he'll be out on his ass with his spatula shoved so far up it he'll be able to taste the last burgers we made."

Vaggie sighed, then smiled. "I don't know how I wound up with a woman like you."

"You didn't," Charlie said, smiling back, "you wound up with a demoness." After giving her girlfriend a peck on the cheek (almost like a chicken demon) she turned to the boys and asked, "Well, are you ready to see the kitchen?"

"I-" Crocker began but Angel Dust immediately butted in much like a spider with a _very_ big caboose,

"Great, you just get settled in now buddy, I'm feeling awful tired _cough and maybe a touch of the clap_ so I'm gonna go to bed see ya later bud!" and before anyone could stop him, he was in his room with the door slamming shut.

"Cobarde con cara de meada," Vaggie hissed under her breath.

"Well, uh... let's head into the kitchen, shall we?" Charlie asked, and escorted Crocker to his doom.

They walked through the dining room, it was empty right now, but there were fancy polished tables everywhere and tons of chairs. _How many guests does she plan on having? Girl's optimistic, I'll give her that._

They reached the swinging kitchen door, the last door etween Crocker and his certain doom, oh the horrors opening this door would bring. Charlie said, "Okay, here we are!"

Slowly, agonizingly, she opened the door to the kitchen. Crocker froze in terror, his feelers actually standing still. _Alastor, the Radio Demon himself_ was here washing dishes and shaking his booty to the radio nearby, which was playing _Here Comes the Boogeyman._ Ugh, how fitting. His fluffy little tail flicked to the beat. Crocker had heard rumors of this guy, but had thankfully never encountered him until now... and he was glad for that, because something about him just radiated evil.

"Um, excuse me, Alasator?" beckoned Charlie?

Alastor jumped since she startled him, but he was fine and he turned around with that mile-wide grin on his face... and a dark twinkle in his monocle, as he looked first to her and then to Crocker, his expression unchanging. "Oh, hello there, Charlie! Who is this fine-featured fellow you have allowed into the sterile environment of my kitchen?" he asked, his voice had radio interference in it what the heck? It made it difficult for Crocker to hear him.

"Well, um, actually it's Vaggie's and my kitchen," Charlie said quietly because truth be told, she was afraid of standing up to him, "but this is Crocker, he's our new cook! Angel Dust just brought him in!"

Alastor kept smiling, but something behind those eyes exploded in a mushroom cloud of rage and bloodlust. His eyes already being red didn't help. "But _I_ am the cook here," he said, and his tone still sounded jubilant... weird...

"Well, it's just that-" Charlie began

"Is my food not good enough for your discerning palate, my lady?" Alastor asked, turning up the charm as he stepped closer to her?! "Ah, it _has_ been a while since I cooked so regularly... that must be it. My work is not up to par with your standards."

"N-No, that's not it at all!" Charlie stressed! "I greatly enjoy your cooking, Alastor! It's just..."

"What?"

"Just,"

" _What?_ "

"Just-"

" **What?** " That one was deeper and more gravelly than the last, oh dang he must've been mad.

"Everyone's... getting a little tired... of jambalaya?"

That did it. Alastor started shaking in fury but he still kept smiling, what a trooper. "Well. If that is the case, I will go up to my room until you have better use for me, my dear," he said as he took off his apron, he handed it to Crocker, but his fingers were crushing it and it took a moment for him to relax so the giant roach could take it. Then he went upstairs, an air of unease and cajun spices surrounding him.

"Don't worry about him," Charlie said smiling apologetically, "he gets kinda moody sometimes."

"I'm not gonna lie, Charlie," said Crocker, "I don't like the idea of living in the same place as that guy."

"Oh, please stay!" Charlei begged, honestly dreading the thought of eating Alastor's cooking again. "He'll behave himself - I promise! He's already made so much progress - just look at all the bowls he's used to make jambalaya for all of us!"

Crocker looked over at the dozen bowls scattered throughout the kitchen, red inside from the seasoning. "Isn't that why I'm here?"

"Just... trust me," she said, nervous. "If he gives you any trouble, let me know of course, but we're all in this together, and we gotta work as a team."

"I'll do my best."

"Great!" she said, bouncing up and down in excitement. "Follow me, I'll show you to your new room."

* * *

Dinner went poorly, and not just because it was yet another course of jambalaya as a "farewell/thank you for cooking for us/get it out of your system" meal from Alastor. No, it was because Crocker was furious at Angel for luring him into this death trap of a hotel. Even if there was a chance at redemption here his afterlife was still in danger from the vermilion venison. The only good things about dinner were that it was Crocker's first time eating jambalaya, and despite how Alastor was givig him the death glare the whole time he ate it, it was pretty good, and he got to spend more time with Niffty and Charlie and Vaggie's other hire, Husk, who ran the bar. Crocker thought it was weird that a place that was trying to redeem sinners had a freaking bar in it but to each their own I suppose. Also Husk was kind of scary looking, kind of like a cross between a cat and a griffon and that thought gave Crocer disturbing imagery, but he was an easygoing bloke to be around despite how gruff he was so they kind of hit it off.

After the meal Crocker stormed over to Angel Dust's room, intent on speaking his mind. Upon reaching it he banged on the door hard enough to splinter it, oh shit that would be coming out of his paycheck.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT I AM _TRYING_ TO LAY MY EGGS IN HERE?!" Angel shouted from inside.

"Angel, you get your obese ass out here right now, before I squash it under my boots!" Crocker snapped.

A few slipping/scurrying noises later, Angel opened the door just wide enough to peek his head out but Crocker could still tell he was naked. "It is not obese, it is _fluffy_ _!_ "

"You listen to me, you arachnoid pretty boy!" Crocker said, jutting his insect leg at Angel, "You didn't tell me that the freaken' Radio Demon was your cook! He looked like he was ready to murder me earlier!"

"Why didn't ya ask?" When Crocker nearly wrunk his throat, Angel backed up and said, "Hey hey, I'm sorry, okay? But if I told ya, ya wouldn't have accepted!"

"Yeah, maybe that would be to save my own skin?!"

"Ya don't have skin anymore, ya got an exoskeleton, just like me. But look, we needed ya here, Crocker. _I_ needed ya. Not just for sex, but because I woulda gone mad if I hadta eat another bowl of that disgusting slop."

"I had some for dinner, it was pretty kickass actually."

"That's because it's the first time ya've had it. Eat it nonstop for a week, and it'll start to taste like chickenshit."

"I'm gonna _turn you_ into chickenshit for what you've done-"

"Coming to bed, honey?" called a voice from Angel's room. Both the spider demon and roach demon looked in to see one of Sir Pentious' egg bois sitting expectantly under the covers.

"Look, I'm sorry I hid the truth from ya, alright?" Angel asked, turning to his friend. "But we needed a cook, 'cause things are gonna get hairy tomorrow. I'll make it up to ya, somehow." He gave one last, apologetic look to Crocker. "G'night, buddy." He closed the door.

Crocker sighed, weighing his options in his head. He had food and shelter in this roaring fire of the afterlife, and safety, none of which he had reliably in his old digs. And he also had no job at his last place so that was a real popsicle stick in the ass. He had no choice anymore, other than to work here.

With the Radio Demon.

Resigned to his fate, Crocker walked back to his room in hopes of getting enough sleep to get through the insanity tomorrow would surely bring


	3. Opening Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EKK I did not mean for this to wait for so long. Well here's chapter 3! I kinda wanted to break up the huge stream of Windfall so I wrote up the rest of this chapter. Sorry for the wait y'all hope you're having a lovely day!

Chapter Three: Opening Day

Crocker was sleeping like a baby (an ugly, insectoid baby, but a baby nonetheless) in his cozy new bed, dreaming happily about days gone by. This was the best sleep he'd had in years - his old, flat-as-a-pancake mattress never offered him anything near the rest he was getting now.

Then a sharp, excited knocking pounded on his bedroom door, shocking him out of his dreams.

"Huh wha?!" he said, panicked, before realizing it was just the door. Taking a few breaths to calm down, he got out of bed and answered the door. It was Charlie, and she was still knocking the air for a few seconds after Crocker opened the door.

"Oh!" she said, seeing the expression on her new hire's face. "I'm so sorry, Crocker! I didn't mean to startle you!"

"I do, though," Alastor, the frigging Radio Demon himself, said as he materialized in a red cloud of dread and agony from behind Crocker who jumped in fear and let out a yelp.

Crocker would've said "Get outta my room you bloody turd" but this was _Alastor_ so he kept his mandibles shut, yikes. Instead he just said, as politely as possible, "You are in my room, Alastor, and I did not invite you. Please, leave."

"What if I don't?" Alastor pressed, keeping up that garish smile and tilting Crocker's head with his microphone (he carries it everywhere I don't understand?), even though Crocker was like two feet _taller_ than him.

"C'mon, Al," Charlie said nicely but with undertones of fear, "I need you downstairs to greet people, remember?"

Alastor's head snapped in her direction with a sickening crack, and his smile was clearly forced. " **Oh. Right. My apologies, my dear. Let me go take care of our guests.** "

He unmicrophoned Crocker and pushed past Charlie in the doorway, before stomping through the hall and downstairs. Honestly, it could've been worse - he could've known what a Walmart greeter was. Then he would've _really_ been pissed with his task.

"Oh, no," Crocker said, smacking his forehead. "Today's opening day, right? Sorry, I didn't mean to sleep in."

"That's quite alright!" Charlie said, back to her usual cheerfulness. "You were obviously exhausted. Considering what Angel Dust said about your life, it doesn't surprise me."

He rubbed the back of his carapace. "Yeah..."

"Well, I'm glad you could get a good night's... and most of the morning's... sleep! You'll need it for today!"

"I'll head right into the kitchen?" Crocker asked, nodding his head in the direction of the stairs.

"Yep! Vaggie's in there now - she took over for breakfast."

"I'll get down there right now - and I'm so sorry again for oversleeping."

"Think nothing of it! See you downstairs!"

Watching her skip away down the hall, Crocker couldn't help but smile. It had been a long time since he'd been around someone so nice. And for her to be his boss - that was even better, but it also made him want to be more diligent at his job. After washing his face, using the bathroom and putting on a fancy red bowtie and little black bowler hat for the occasion, Crocker went downstairs for his first day on the job.

As we stepped down the stairs, he saw a handful of demons walking around the lobby. All of them puked upon seeing him, but he expected that. Leaving them and approaching the doors to the dining room, he became aware of a quiet murmuring sound, but was kept from investigating it when Angel collapsed at his feet, arms full of luggage.

"Angel! What happened to you?" Crocker asked, helping his friend to his feet.

"The girls've got me on bellboy duty!" Angel said, sounding appalled. "They say it's because I've got a buttload of arms and everything, so it's an easy job for me - but this dainty figure just ain't made for haulin' junk up and down stairs!"

"Don't we have an elevator?" asked Crocker.

"Yeah, but the thing's busted. Remember, they bought this place as a fixer-upper. There's all sorts of things wrong with it."

A demon couple overheard this, and made for the front door. Angel saw them and said, "Whoopsie."

"That's quite a lot of bags," Crocker said, gaining his friend's attention and pointing to the duffles and suitcases hanging all over him, like he was a pink and white Christmas tree. "I only see a few people in here."

"Oh, the rest are in there," Angel said, nodding to the dining room doors. "We've got a full house. On that note, I'll leave you to _your_ job."

The spider demon started carrying his haul up the stairs, and Crocker watched him for a moment before approaching the dining room. The murmuring was louder now. When he opened the doors, he froze in shock.

The dining room was _full_ of demons, of all shapes and sizes and colors. They were all talking and merry-making, shootin' the shit. Most of them were preoccupied with themselves so only a couple got sick at the sight of Crocker, but that kind of made it more difficult to get past them and into the kitchen.

"'Scuse me, coming through, pardon me, madame," he said, nervous, trying to get through the crowd. He could make out Charlie's wavy blonde hair on the opposite side of the room, she seemed to be talking to someone who was too short for Crocker to see. He figured it was probably Niffty.

Squeezing into the kitchen, Crocker didn't have time to recollect himself after the madhouse he just trudged through, because Vaggie turned her head to look at him from the stove, a crazed look in her eye and a mini toque on her head. " _What took you so long?!_ " she barked.

"I'm so sorry, Vaggie," Crocker said, rushing to put on an apron. "I overslept. Are you okay?"

"Do I _look_ okay?" she said, and when Crocker stood next to her he saw she was trembling. "I'm not trained for this! Earlier, it was fine, pancakes and omelets for like, five demons. Then the floodgates opened and I've been cooking like crazy!"

Taking a look at the burned sausages in the pan she was tending, Crocker said, "Hang up your toque, Vaggie. I've got this."

Stepping back, Vaggie watched as Crocker took one brief look at the line of orders hanging over the counter, and started whipping up omelets, pancakes, crepes, frattatas, and other breakfastery in the blink of an eye. Her jaw dropped as he threw an egg in the air, sifted flour, baking powder, and salt together in a bowl, then stuck a spoon in the middle, on which the egg landed and cracked, the shell splitting off onto the counter and the yolk and whites landing neatly in the bowl. He stirred up the batter with one hand while the other three added sugar, vanilla, and blueberries. He dropped the batter in unbelievingly-equal portions across the griddle, using half his arms to work on more omelets while the other two flipped the pancakes, and when they were ready, threw them onto the waiting plates. He then topped them with sprigs of mint.

"Alright, six orders of pancakes, ready to go. Who takes them out?" he asked, holding the plates up as he turned to Vaggie. "Uh... Vaggie?"

The moth demon was awestruck as she stared at her new cook. "... _holy fuck, Angel was right for once._ "

The two demons brought the food into the dining room, where, as Crocker worked his way to the various hungry tables, he finally got a look at who Charlie was speaking to. It wasn't Niffty, but an imp sitting at the grand piano. They were going over music, it seemed, as the princess was running her finger along the sheet music on the piano. The imp nodded and said something, then Charlie smiled and nodded her head before walking up to the microphone and tapping it. Everyone in the room screamed and covered their ears, except Crocker, since he didn't want to drop the food.

"Uh, heh heh, sorry, everyone," Charlie said, blushing, before continuing. "Anyway, I'd like to thank you all for coming in for rehabilitation at the Happy Hotel! It warms my heart to see so many people interested in redemption!"

"Take off your top!" shouted someone in the crowd. Vaggie got mad, but couldn't see who said it.

Despite several demons snickering, Charlie cleared her throat and continued. "M-Moving on, to celebrate the opening of the hotel, and the beginning of the wondrous journey you're all setting out on, we have today Hell's very own Moxxie, musician extraordinaire!"

She gestured to the imp, who, despite his red skin, showed a bit of blush at her words. "Uh... thank you for having me."

Very few demons clapped. Unfortunately, imps were looked down upon in Hell's society. Despite everyone being a sinner down here (except maybe Charlie?) there was still something of a pecking order and the imps were considered lower than trailer trash (by the way, there's nothing wrong with living in a trailer. I don't think there is anyway. But there are some weirdos out there who call people trash for living in trailers... privileged bastards) and generally treated poorly by the regular demons. Crocker always felt for them, though, since because of his face most demons treated him pretty much like an imp, so he clapped for Moxxie as well.

"Moxxie, could you please begin our special number?" asked Charlie.

"Coming right up," he said, and took a deep breath... hit one note, and let out a loud, horrific scream.

Everyone in the room froze and stared at him. He struck another note, then gave another scream. He was about to strike a third note when Charlie said quickly, "No, not that page! The next one!"

"Oh, whoops! Sorry!" Moxxie said, and turned the page, must've flipped by accident at some point hm... but Charlie had gone over the music with him, how could he have messed up?

"Hah hah!" laughed one big, hulking demon who Vaggie was serving strawberry crepes. "Idiotic imp! Only fool would work with one!"

The whole room erupted into laughter, causing Moxxie to nearly crush the sheet music in his fists, but it was Crocker who spoke up.

"What are you laughing at him for?! He didn't _ask_ to be an imp - and there's nothing wrong with the imps, anyway! You've all just got an inflated sense of self-importance!" he shouted, louder than he meant but he'd been under a lot of stress...

... well the entire room heard, and stared at him. Then everyone threw up.

"You have someone who looks like _that_ working in your kitchen?!" shrieked one demon woman.

"I ain't stayin' here if there's a literal _roach_ servin' food!" said one gravelly-voiced caveman-esque demon.

They started to get up to leave, when Vaggie spoke up. "Hey, you know that food you were just enjoying? _He_ was the one who cooked it!"

"Vaggie, why," Crocker asked, hiding his face in his hands.

"... he was?" asked one demon, who still had a strip of bacon hanging out of his mouth.

"Yeah!" Vaggie said, crossing her arms. "So you wanna just walk away and throw your chance at redemption out the window, that's fine by me, but know that it was all over the fact that you can't help judging a book by its cover, you shallow assholes!"

The guests all thought about it for a moment, and some still left, but the majority walked back to their tables.

"Hey, Coach Roach, can I get another stack of them blueberry pancakes?" one pterodactyl demon asked.

"Sure thing," Crocker said smiling, and scuttled back into the kitchen.

"Phew," Charlie said, wiping her brow for a moment before straightening and smiling to the crowd again. "Now, where were we? Oh, right - hit it, Moxxie!"

The little red imp began belting out a ragtime tune on the piano, while Charlie began dancing on the small, circular stage. "I know you're all feeling a little overwhelmed right now - so I wrote this song to help you realize that you can do anything you set your mind and heart to!" she said, before beginning her song.

_One day you're walking on the soft green grass_

_The next day you're in Hell 'cause you were an ass_

_You might feel like there's nothing, you've run out of luck_

_But you can do this, your soul's not tits up_

_Death is like a pizza pie_

_Even if it's not what you wanted, you can make it delicious, dry your eyes_

_Death is like a box of donuts_

_Sweet wonders await, you just don't know what_

_Vaggie and Charlie and Husk and Niffty_

_Are here to help you get your soul spiffy_

_And let's not forget Alastor and Crocker too_

_They're here to help you, you, and you!_

"C'mon, Vaggie! Join me for the finale!" Charlie called across the crowd.

" **Please, no,** " her girlfriend begged, shrinking and hoping to disappear.

" _Please?_ " Charlie begged, giving those puppy-dog eyes.

" **Ugh,** " Vaggie sighed, and got up on stage. She swung her arms around, not daring to actually break into dance.

_Death is like a delicious meat sandwich_

_There are many kinds, but you're not sure which is which_

_Death is like a bowl of pudding_

_Slimy and messy, but you do your thing!_

_Oh, and don't worry if you hear screaming in the middle of the night_

_It's just Angel Dust on a bad trip_

_So if you believe you can achieve your dreams_

_Stay with us, you'll see what we mean!_

The girls finished, Charlie in a grand display of jazz hands, and Vaggie just looking like she wanted to die all over again. But the crowd cheered and whistled, and Charlie bowed to her beloved guests while her girlfriend smiled and admired her positivity.

Crocker clapped, feeling quite flattered that Charlie had included him in her song, despite him only just arriving. He guessed he really was part of the family now, something he really appreciated.

Meanwhile, just out of sight, Alastor was watching the scene, an uncharacteristic scowl on his face. No one knew what had upset him this time, and neither did they know that things were only going to get worse in this hotel.


	4. Deer Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! OK WOW. I was NOT expecting to get so many views when I updated. I'm honestly kinda feeling somethin' like stage fright right now. Thank you all so much, it means the world to me! Thank you for the favorites and everything! I hope you're enjoying the story. I fianlly got around to watching the Addict music video. OH BOY. the animation was GORGEOUS as usual but man I feel so bad for Angel Dust, I just want to give him a hug, and I don't like spiders. It just really broke my heart... I hope things will turn out okay for him in the end. I was really excited to see Fat Nuggets tho. c: Also Chi-Chi's a really talented singer I was so excited when I saw her name in the credits I've seen some other stuff she's done. She doesn't nromally voice Cherri Bomb, does she? I need to check again... anyway hope you are all well and you enjoy this new chapter! c:

Chapter Four: Deer Me

_That wretched roach certainly has made himself at home in the hotel,_ Alastor mused to himself as he skimmed through the restaurant menu. Though most perturbed, he kept an unreadable expression - he'd learned on previous visits not to appear upset around the staff, or they would be too preoccupied with fear to bring his order out correctly.

_Yes... it is most troublesome,_ he continued, taking a sip of water. _Not only does he already feel comfortable there, but the others have grown quite fond of him as well. Somehow._

"Wh-What can I get for you, s-sir?" asked the frightened young elephant demon waitress, her hand shaking as it hovered over her notepad.

"Oh! Pardon me, Phanti. I was lost in my own head, haha!" Alastor laughed like he was among friends, but the waitress didn't relax at all. Unhindered, the deer demon gave his order. "I'll have #5 today, my usual. Cooked medium-rare for a change."

"Y-Yes, sir," Phanti stuttered, quickly jotting down his order so she could just get out of there already (also how was she writing with those flat stumps elephants have for feet? Nobody knows, not even me, and I'm the fucken author of this story.) After getting 95% of it on the paper she skedaddled out of there faster than a stampede.

Alastor watched as she hurried away, slightly annoyed that his reputation preceded him and thus he would never truly have any friends down here, but also feeling his ego satisfied. When people feared you, they respected you. They became malleable... like putty in your hands. Or like a fresh, still-bloody brain in said hands. Yes. Alastor had felt that sensation before... the jelly-like firmness of a newly-harvested brain, his fingers caressing the folds, cerebrospinal fluid running over his knuckles...

He cleared his throat, blushing. No, this wasn't the place to reminisce and get all excited, he could do that later, when he had privacy. But, his earlier thoughts returned. This roach that had invaded the hotel clearly didn't fear him - at least, not as much as Alastor felt he should. That would be a problem. Everyone else at the hotel, except for that loud-mouthed moth, knew to keep their distance, but Crocker was very new to this dynamic, and thus the most likely to throw the proverbial monkey wrench into Alastor's work. He needed to be put in his place - or better yet, done away with.

But the corpse of a beloved addition to the hotel would certainly raise eyebrows. So that meant Alastor couldn't touch Crocker's life... for now, but there were other ways he could reach his goal.

"H-Here you are, sir," said the chef, a goat demon, who had come by Alastor's table with his food in Phanti's stead. Removing the cover from the steaming plate in a shaky flourish, he revealed five steamed eyeballs, each placed meticulously on a bed of greens, and served with a hot bleu cheese dressing.

The chef ran before Alastor could thank him, but he wasn't going to anyway. After tucking his napkin into his collar, he began cutting one of the eyeballs with his fork and knife, the humour flowing out in time with the psychotic smile spreading across Alastor's face.

"Yes... your death may be out of reach for me at the moment, my new housemate, but that does not mean you're safe from these crimson claws," he growled lowly, and took a bite of his dinner.

* * *

The next morning was, thankfully, a little less crazy than the last, but still more fast-paced than Crocker was expecting. Still, he was diligent in his work and finished up breakfast lickity-split - pun intended, because most of the uncouth sinners licked their plates clean.

While Crocker washed the dishes, he was able to hear a conversation between Charlie and Vaggie in the dining room. "Where's Alastor?" he could hear the former ask, as she and her girlfriend were pushing in seats that their guests had so **rudely** left out. The happy-go-lucky demon made a mental note to go over basic etiquette in the lessons for the guests soon.

"Who cares?" Vaggie answered. Her voice was more distant - she must've been on the other side of the room. "Maybe he's walked out the door and will never come back. Good riddance."

"Oh, Vaggie, I know you two don't get along... really I'm the only one who seems to with him... but don't you think you could be a little more supportive?"

"He's a monster, Charlie. A real demon, in all the worst ways. We'd be lucky if we never saw him again, trust me."

Just then the dining room doors opened. "Good morning, ladies!" called a staticy voice. Crocker didn't have to see him to know it was Alastor. "Please, forgive my absence from breakfast. I had a late night, I'm afraid."

"I'd love a permanent absence from you," Vaggie said, narrowing her eyes, but he didn't even acknowledge her presence.

"Are you hungry, Al?" Charlie asked. "I'm sure Crocker would be more than happy to whip you up something."

Crocker tensed, hoping Alastor would say no. If he could go just one day without dealing with the deer demon, he would feel truly blessed.

"Not at the moment, thank you," Alastor answered, "but I do have business with our new cook. I presume he is still in the kitchen?"

Crocker started looking around to see if any of the cabinets were large enough to hide him. Nope, they weren't. He started to panic. Who knew what that sick twisted bastard was thinking or plotting.

"Yeah! He should be getting the place cleaned up after the breakfast rush," Charlie answered.

Crocker winced. _Fuck!_

"Excellent! I shall go see him right now," Alastor said jovially, and began making his way to the kitchen... to Crocker's sanctuary.

"Poor bastard," Vaggie said, shaking her head.

Crocker shut his eyes, hoping what he'd heard had all been his imagination. _Please don't let him come in here... please don't let him come in here... please don't let him come in here..._

The door opened. "Crocker, are you in here?"

"Darn it," the roach sighed.

He didn't have to turn around, because Alastor walked right up to him, draping an arm across Crocker's shoulders. "So, how are you liking life in these living accommodations, my good roach?"

"Better than waking up covered in rat bites," Crocker said, tensing under the radio demon's touch. Why was he suddenly being so friendly?

"That's wonderful to hear. You came from a not-so-stellar background, correct?"

"Don't we all, down here?" Crocker said and laughed, but when Alastor didn't join him he coughed and said, "Uh, get it? Because we're in the opposite direction of the stars?"

Alastor just kept staring at him what the heck... "I was talking about your lifestyle."

"Uh, yeah, I know... I was just making a joke..."

"We do not have time for jokes, my carapaced comrade!" Alastor snapped, but he still wore a smile? "We are two adult demons, with lives and livelihoods-"

"But we're not living anymore-"

"-and that's why I want to show you a grand old time!"

"Excuse me, what?!" Crocker asked, confused?

"Once you're finished with the dishes, I'm taking you out on the town! You never had the means to really explore what Hell has to offer, yes? Well, I'll show you - and we'll have the chance to get to know each other in the process!" Alastor said, as if he wasn't, like, you know, a cold-blooded murderer or anything.

Needless to say, Crocker was hesitant. He knew Alastor's reputation, but the radio demon had also been allowed in the hotel by Charlie, the very princess of Hell. And she more than anyone would know who to trust and who not to... right? In the few days that he'd been here, Crocker had learned she wasn't the airhead she often came off as - no, he'd seen her scream at Niffty when the toilets were left unclean. Shivers ran up his carapace as he remembered the event.

"Well... alright," Crocker finally said, "but we're sticking to the well-lit parts of town."

"Of course! Only the rapscallions dwell in the shadows!" Alastor said. His energy didn't seem to change at Crocker's agreement to join him.

The two walked out of the kitchen, nearly bumping into Charlie and Vaggie, huh, wonder what they were doing on the other side of the door. "Mr. Roach and I are headed into town," Alastor proclaimed, "for a spot of good old-fashioned hellish entertainment!"

"I thought that was every day," Vaggie grumbled.

Whispering to Crocker, Charlie asked, "Are you sure you want to go? I'll handle the fallout if you decline."

"Nah, it's fine," he assured her. "Besides... I don't think he's the type to take no for an answer."

"Well... okay," she said, but gave him a smile. "Hope you two have fun! Watch out for potholes!"

Crocker bid farewell to his only place of security. Once they were outside, Alastor practically bent backwards to face him, looking like something out of Crocker's worst nightmares, and said "Now, let us truly tear it up!"

* * *

Turns out there were people who were more scared of Alastor than Crocker was. Most people they met while in town were too focused on the radio demon to even look at his companion and thus lose their lunch. They had free reign of the casino, teahouse, movie theater, every entertainment spot they visited in Hell. Crocker... actually kind of appreciated this. It had been so long - before he died, as a matter of fact - since he was able to walk freely around town without people treating him like a freak. If he could shake the unease that latched onto him every time he was around Alastor, he might actually go as far as saying he was _enjoying_ himself.

When they sat down to have a picnic by the sewer falls, Crocker was starting to worry that this would all culminate in his first sexual experience since dying. _Then_ he got scared. But Alastor still didn't seem to be flirting with him.

"So, how have you liked our day so far?" he asked the roach.

"Oh! Uh... actually..." Crocker said, looking at his roast beef sandwich, "I... I had a pretty good time."

"Tell me what you liked about it!" the radio demon pressed. "I wish to know, for next time!"

"N-Next time?!"

"You do not want to join me for recreation in the future?" Alastor asked, raising a brow (but he still kept smiling, what was his face frozen that way?!)

"Uhh, " Crocker said, getting worried about offending Alastor. They were pretty much alone in this park... no one was there to hear him scream, and plus no one would likely help him even if they did. "That's, uh, not what I meant... it's just, well... most people don't like me very much."

"Why ever not?" asked Alastor.

"Isn't it obvious?" Crocker responded, giving a sad smile. "Everyone thinks I'm hideous. No one down here shows me kindness, other than Angel and the gang at the hotel. They act like, just because I look this way, I'm somehow worse than they are. Disgusting. Garbage. Even though they did far worse things in life than me."

"I am sorry to hear that," Alastor said gently.

"No, it's... I actually want to thank you for today. For once, no one treated me like I was the scum of the... Hell. They were all too focused on you. I finally got to blend into the background."

"Think nothing of it, Crocker," the radio demon said. "I am happy I could bring you some peace, even if for one day."

"Yeah..." Crocker said, but he was really just saying that so Alastor wouldn't think he wasn't listening - truth be told he had noticed the mayo in his sandwich had dripped all over his lap, it was gross.

"Crocker... may I be honest with you for a moment?" asked Alastor, catching the roach's attention.

"Uh... yeah? What's up?"

Alastor suddenly looked like he was fighting back tears. "I... I understand how you feel. Everywhere I go, people run away from me. They're scared of me. Even if I try to be good, they all know of my past misdeeds... and can't look past them..."

Before Crocker's eyes, he saw the radio demon break down crying. He froze in shock and Alastor continued, "I... I just want to be seen as a normal person again! I want to make friends, and have fun with people, instead of them all running away from me!"

"A... Alastor..." Crocker said, shocked by this turn of events.

"The... the only place I truly felt welcome... was the kitchen," Alastor sobbed. "There, no one saw who I was. I could prove myself through my cooking. It would bring me back to the memories of working with my mother in her N'Orleans kitchen..." Tears streaming from his eyes, he looked up at Crocker. "Please, Crocker... don't take this away from me... it's all I have left. Please... give me back my kitchen duty."

Crocker stared at him, and said, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Huh?" asked Alastor.

"This whole thing - the time on the town, this whole talk - it was all to get back in the kitchen?"

"It's... very important to me..."

"Cut the shit, Alastor!" Crocker snapped, getting up. He completely forgot who he was talking to, he was so pissed. "I know you're a scheming creep, but seriously?! Playing with my emotions like this? Finally, I get a day where no one barfs at the sight of me, turns out it's all a lie!"

Alastor's tears suddenly dried up and he wasn't sad anymore, all in the blink of an eye, huh, wonder how that happened? "I should've known. A filthy roach like you is too selfish to think of anyone else. All you do is take from everyone."

"No, _you're_ the one trying to take from _me!_ " Crocker shouted. "I finally have a steady job, a roof over my head, and decent meals, and you want to take that away from me? What, so you can continue to force your gross jambalaya on everyone? Get a fucking grip!"

"You'd best hold your tongue with me, _insect,_ " Alastor hissed. "I have a lot of say in this underworld."

"Yeah, and guess who I work for?" Crocker asked, throwing up his hands. " _The princess of Hell herself._ "

"You think anyone respects her? That anyone would listen to her if she ordered the demons against me?" Alastor laughed. "She's a weak _ditz_ _._ She's the paper umbrella in the hailstorm I'm going to bring down on you."

His juices boiling at Alastor insulting his friend like this, Crocker snapped, " _You can go to He-_ "

He stopped short, realizing what he was saying. Alastor's face curled into a mocking grin. Frustrated, Crocker turned around to head back to the hotel. "Don't you ever talk to me again."

Alastor watched him leave, confident that he wouldn't tattle on him to Charlie - there's no way he would break the poor demoness' heart with the knowledge of what Alastor had said about her. But, though his cover was still intact, his Plan A had been shattered. So, the roach couldn't be emotionally manipulated, but that didn't mean he couldn't be manipulated in _other ways._

"Back to the drawing board," he said, before picking up the discarded half of Crocker's sandwich. He hadn't been there for most of the Great Depression, but still, he couldn't waste food, so he scarfed it down before figuring out his next course of action.


	5. Hell's Handkerchiefs

Chapter Five: Hell's Handkerchiefs

Angel reached over and lit Crocker's cigarette, which he had clamped in his mandibles. The two were in Angel's bed relaxing after coitus. See, they were pretty good friends, so they became friends with benefits and would have sex with each other whenever one or both was having a bad day. And after what happened the previous afternoon, Crocker considered it a _very_ bad day.

"I can't believe ya actually spoke to _Alastor_ like that - and got out alive," the spider demon said, raising his brows.

"I think that creep just wants my job," Crocker said, exhaling the smoke. "He tried to win me over by playing with my feelings. Bastard."

"Gotta say, I ain't surprised. The guy's fucked up." Grinning mischievously, Angel then turned to Crocker and asked, "So, before he revealed his plan and all that... did you bonk him?"

"Of course not!" Crocker snapped. "It was entirely platonic manipulation!"

"Oh, come on," Angel teased, "You're tellin' me ya didn't at least try and get some tail when he was offering?"

"He's not my type. Plus, I don't think he's even wired that way."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Really, Angel?" Crocker looked at his friend. "The guy's got immense influence down here. He could get anything he wants. If he wanted men, _or_ women, he would've gotten some by now."

"Huh," Angel said, blinking. "Never thought of it that way. Maybe that's why he turned down the offer for a blowjob."

Crocker nearly inhaled his cigarette. "You _what?!_ "

Angel snapped, "Why're ya always assuming it's _me?!_ "

Suddenly, a horrific, flanging cry of agony rang throughout the hall. Startled, the boys jumped out of bed, Angel got dressed (Crocker normally walks around naked, not like there's anything to see anyway) and they scurried out the door like the spider and cockroach demons they were, you could even hear their skittering yeesh.

Rushing into the hall, they saw Charlie running in and out of the rooms, panic clear on her face. Occupants screamed when she invaded their rooms, but she didn't seem to take notice. Vaggie tried to calm her down, but was no match for her girlfriend's speed.

"What's going on?!" asked Crocker as he and Angel approached Vaggie.

"She can't find her handkerchief," Vaggie said. "You know, the red one with the black writing she always carries around? She thought she had it on her, but had a sniffle a few minutes ago and-"

" _IT'S NOT IN HERE EITHER!_ " they heard the princess scream from one room where one of their guests was threatening to hit her with a baseball bat if she didn't stop rifling through his things. Charlie ran out and up to Crocker. Her face was pinkish and puffy, and wet with tears. "Crocker! Have you seen my hankie?!"

Crocker felt his heart twist. His boss looked so pitiful, but he had to tell her, "I'm sorry, Charlie. I haven't."

"Oh, what if I dropped it in the trash can when I took the garbage to the curb?!" Charlie said, eyes darting across the floor. "Sanitation came by this morning! I'll never see it again!"

"Well, knowing how thorough sanitation is down here, you'll likely find it strewn across the walkway with last week's chinese cartons," Angel huffed.

The thought of her precious handkerchief mixed with the filth caused Charlie to weep even more, and Vaggie growled at Angel, who backed away a few steps.

"Charlie," Crocker said gently, laying his horrible insect leg on her shoulder, "fourteen eyes are better than two. Angel and I will help find your hankie."

"'Fourteen?'" asked Angel, confused.

"Uh, yeah? Mine, Charlie's, Vaggie's, and you've got eight."

"No, I don't!" Angel said, seeming repulsed. He pointed to his cheeks. "These are just freckles!"

" **Oh.** "

"That's very nice of you," Charlie said, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. "Thank you, but I don't want to keep you from your work. Besides, Alastor's helping too."

"Ugh," Angel spat, looking around, wondering where the resident deer was.

"But, it wouldn't hurt to keep your eyes open. You two can take downstairs," Vaggie suggested. "Spiders have good eyesight, so Angel can look around while he takes orders - and you should know the kitchen pretty well by now, Crocker."

"Will do. We'll let you know if we find anything," Crocker said, and he and Angel made their way to the dining room.

"Gee, thanks for ropin' me into this, bud," Angel said, drawing out his words, "I didn't have _anything better_ planned for today."

"Charlie's our friend," Crocker snapped, "and our boss. Besides, if she keeps this up for much longer, we might not have a roof over our heads."

Angel said, "Good point."

Upon entering the dining room, they saw a handful of demons reading the breakfast menu. More were surely to come soon, so Crocker hurried his little insectoid ass into the kitchen and prepared to fry it up. Meanwhile, Angel crawled around on the floor, examining every square inch for the hankie. Eventually, he accidentally bumped into a guest's leg.

"Hey! Whaddaya think yer doin'?!" the guest, some sort of dog demon, asked.

Angel straightened up, and set his elbow on the table. "Lookin' for my contact lens," he replied, smirking. "What, did ya think my eyes were really two different colors?"

"I don't care," the guest said, burying his immense snout back into the menu. "I just want to eat my demonic chicken eggs in peace."

Angel took the guest's order and brought it in to Crocker, who was peering in the different cabinets for any sign of black-on-scarlet. He thanked Angel for the order and began the easy process of cooking eggs over hard.

Orders came in and went out on Angel's many arms, but as he and Crocker nibbled at their own breakfast as they served the guests, they still found no sign of Charlie's handkerchief. Angel was about to suggest they sew a new one before they all drowned in Charlie's tears when the kitchen door flew open and Crocker was knocked up against the fridge, a gray hand seizing his throat.

"Would you like to tell me," Vaggie said, slowly, "how my girlfriend's handkerchief wound up in _your room?!_ "

"Wh-what?!" Crocker choked, his legs flailing around as he panicked. "Vaggie, I'd never-"

"Don't hurt him, Vaggie!" Charlie begged, running into the kitchen, clutching her hankie to her chest. Alastor followed shortly after, smiling smugly.

"Why?! He hurt _you!_ I knew we should've never hired him! Any friend of Angel's is bad news!" Vaggie argued, getting ready to punch Crocker square in the trembling mandibles.

"No!" Charlie cried, rushing over to try and pull them apart. "We don't have to resort to violence! We can just talk about this!"

The moth demon rolled her eyes to look at her girlfriend. Not wanting to upset her anymore, she reluctantly let Crocker go. "Fine, then. Explain yourself," she barked, folding her arms.

"I don't know how it wound up in my room," Crocker said, gently, "but I certainly did not put it there. You've been nothing but kind to me since we met, Charlie - you gave me a job and a home. Why would I hurt you in return?"

"Who searched Crocker's room?" Angel asked, glaring at Alastor, whose grin still hadn't faltered.

"Vaggie was the one who entered your friend's quarters," the Radio Demon replied. "I was searching the third floor."

"Well, what's so important about it, anyway?" Angel continued. "I don't mean no offense, Charlie, but this is a lot of hullabaloo for just a handkerchief."

"It's not just a handkerchief," Charlie began, "or a present from when I was a baby. It's a status symbol. All Overlords of Hell - my mother, my father, even your boss, Valentino... and me, since I'm the princess - have a personalized handkerchief. They're meant to distinguish the owner as someone with immense power. Fakes have been attempted, but the handkerchiefs are made with special magic that is impossible to recreate, except by one person."

"Who's that?" Crocker asked.

"... my father."

"As you can imagine, if one of these handkerchiefs fell into the wrong hands, someone could sell it on the black market for a fortune and we'd never see it again, and Lucifer's not the type to offer a replacement," Vaggie said, stroking Charlie's shoulder. "Which only makes you more suspicious, Crocker, since you've had a tough time making ends meet. You could've taken it and never had to worry about supporting yourself again."

"But... this doesn't even make sense," Crocker said, blinking. "I didn't know these special handkerchiefs existed until now, and besides that, I haven't even been in my room since yesterday."

"Then where were you after you came back from town?" asked Vaggie, narrowing her eyes.

Crocker was too embarrassed to say it, so Angel said it for him. "He was in my room. We were screwin' each other."

That certainly shut everyone up, and wiped the grin off Alastor's face. Crocker, actually sleeping with someone? Even Charlie didn't want to think about it.

"... I think I'm going to lie down," she said, turning around and leaving the kitchen.

After watching her go, Vaggie shot one more glare back at Crocker. "I don't know how this happened, but if it happens again, I'm throwing you out on your scaly ass," she threatened, before storming out of the kitchen as well.

Crocker, shaking like a leaf, let out the breath he'd been holding. Concerned, Angel asked him, "You okay?"

"I thought she was going to kill me for a second there," he admitted, trying to calm himself down.

A light chuckling reminded them that Alastor was still there. "Well, if you value your life so, why risk it with petty theft?"

"I didn't take Charlie's hankie, you son of a bitch!" Crocker snapped, pointing at him. "In fact, I think I've got a pretty good idea who did."

"Me too," Angel hissed.

"I assume you're referring to _me?_ " Alastor said, gesturing to himself. "Why, I'm insulted! I would never dream of making such a foolish mistake as taking the Princess of Hell's crown equivalent. You, on the other hand-"

"I know you did this, stop fucking around!" Crocker snapped. "This is to turn Charlie and Vaggie against me, and get me fired!"

"Such language," Alastor said, glaring through his smile. "Maybe you really don't have any place among the upper class."

"Says the guy who keeps lying to the Princess!"

"I believe I've had quite enough of your accusations," Alastor said, and made for the door. Before he could step out, though, he said over his shoulder, "Oh, Crocker, do you know when the next cleanse is?"

"Uh..." Crocker trailed off, half because that question sort of came out of nowhere, and half because he honestly wasn't sure.

"Twelve days," Alastor answered for him. The insect and arachnid demons caught the flash of his smile. "I suggest you conduct yourself carefully if you value your afterlife - this may be your safest place to hide."

The Radio Demon left, and Crocker looked up at Angel, worried. Angel assured him, "He's not gonna get ya kicked out. Soon as Vaggie finds out what he's up to, she'll take care of him."

"But she definitely won't listen to me now. How can we convince her that he framed me?" Crocker asked.

Angel thought for a moment. He wished he had a better answer for his friend. "I guess... just watch yer back for now. She's smart. A hard-ass, but smart. She'll figure it out eventually."

Crocker sighed. "If Alastor's saying what I think he's saying, it had better be sooner than that."


End file.
